God's love is, of course, beyond comparison. But we humans
require comparison for understanding; the combining of things we understand to comprehend something new. There are few truly new ideas. When
they crop up, they are shot down until they are comparable or combinable with
something we already understand. God used the feeble and faulty love we have for our
children to set up the paradigm of his Love for us. Both the Father and Son are
merely metaphors we can understand through comparison. Abraham and Isaac is one
such manifestation of this metaphor of comparison.
Understanding the Love of God is the end goal of the Great
Controversy. Lucifer sought this understanding and lacked it. We, likewise but
with lesser ability - sin-bound as we are - wished to understand God in all His
glory. So, the Father begat a Son and sent Him to live among us as one of us
and to die for us as One beyond us.
“Father make them one as we are one,” Jesus
prayed. It is a revelation of Divine love in dusty sandals. He walked our roads
as one of us and calls us to walk His road as one with Him. Since that life,
that death and that re-life, God calls us to the life liveable only when we
enter His love, although we barely understand it.
I do not think we dwell often enough in the darkness between death and resurrection. And yet, this is where we live. We want the forgiveness
He offered by taking our place. We want the life He promised by
returning to life. But, what of the dark
day? The Sabbath of fearful trial living between the call to death and the gift
of life? How long did Abraham walk alongside his son believing he was about to lose
him? For the disciples, it was a Sabbath. What a dark Sabbath indeed. A Sabbath
without a Saviour. A day without understanding.
Then the Son arose. A new day dawns. Oneness reveals. The
story deepens. Love lives. The metaphor thickens. Death dies. Father and Son
is One. Revelation in resurrection.
The great cosmic conflict - life and death - is explained
on the Road to Emmaus (See Luke 24:13-35). That must have been the most invigorating conversation
humans have ever had with God. Does not your heart burn within you just
considering that day, that walk, that conversation? Until the breaking of bread
reveals, again, oneness. More inclusive. More reaching. More embracing. “Take
eat, this is my body broken for you.”
Forever, the cry of God on Abraham's mountain: "It is enough" is completed by the Cry of God on our mountain: "It
is finished."